


Somewhere After This

by lukegrey



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, F/F, Falling In Love, Post-Break Up, SuperCorp, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 04:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11456004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukegrey/pseuds/lukegrey
Summary: Kara, after three decades on earth, starts losing people she loves. Despite the symbol of hope on her chest and belief in Rao's light, she's come to realize why she's so afraid an afterlife doesn't exist.She doesn't know how to die.





	Somewhere After This

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be heavy, guys. It's sad and it's an exploration of death and dying and where our consciousness goes after and all that. For some reason, Supergirl just brings out the utter angst in me. 
> 
> Fic was inspired by my own heartache at everything ever and also "Somewhere" from West Side Story and "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" from Phantom. 
> 
> Check out my other story [Invincible](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9706538/chapters/21901457) or send me LOVE at [mcdanvers!](http://mcdanvers.tumblr.com/)

When Lena Luthor died, Supergirl exiled herself to the Fortress.

The constant noise surrounding Lena Luthor’s shocking death couldn’t be silenced, even when she turned off her comms and her phone – all around the city she could hear the snippets of conversations in bars; the drone of car radios during rush hour; and the worst of all: the sound of unbridled grief.

It took Kara a moment to realize it was coming from her.

Tears stung her eyes as the wind streaked them across her face, blurring her vision. She didn’t care; her speed was reaching close to her record as she flew, and flew, until the Fortress was mere yards away and she finally slowed, slumping to the ground onto her knees.

Lena was _gone_. She was gone and Kara hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye, or say anything at all. They had been so close, once, many years ago, but Kara had ultimately made the decision to stay away so Lena could live her life.

Kara just hadn’t anticipated Lena dying at 46 years old.  

It was a car accident, on the north bridge coming into National City, that took Lena’s life. NCPD radioed for Supergirl, but Kara was midair when Alex told her the grave news. She hadn’t felt that kind of shock before, not even when her pod landed on Earth and she experienced the sun for the first time. This was different. Lena died, and took Kara’s heart with her.

The Fortress blocked all outside noise, and the freezing temperature numbed Kara enough to forget, if only for a brief few hours. The buzzing disappeared, and Kara could finally let her overstimulated brain rest without interruption.

Alex didn’t need to know her location, because she was the one who suggested it once Lena’s death was confirmed.

“It’ll ground you,” she’d said quietly, grasping Kara’s shoulders and forcing her sister to make eye contact. “Take the time to heal, don’t throw yourself into something else.”

“What if I can’t, Alex?” Kara whispered, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t think this would happen so soon. I thought we had more time –”

“We all think that, Kara,” Alex replied sadly. “But we can’t plan these things. Death is just…hanging back, waiting.”

At 51, Alex had aged well, her advice and wisdom stronger and more confident over the years. Kara found herself needing Alex more often, once her friends and family began to show signs of age and she didn’t; once the reality of human mortality began to finally set in.

Alex understood death and its finality. Kara unwillingly faced an eternal lifespan and thus refused to accept the idea she would be utterly alone someday. Lena’s death brought back memories of explosions under a red sun and endless sleep in the void; of lost parents and faded sense of spirituality.

Kara once believed Rao would bring her back to her family. After three decades on Earth, after witnessing countless deaths, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

The Fortress held the book of Rao and other Kryptonian practices meant for Kara and Kal-El to indulge in their roots and feel close to home.

But Superman had been killed twelve years ago, and Kara once again felt the pain of being the last daughter of Krypton; the last one of her people who would outlive everyone she ever loved.

Three days in the Fortress and Kara began to feel antsy. She knew she couldn’t stay in hiding for long: she would be expected to appear, send a statement, _something_. After all, National City had a Luthor and a Super to thank for a partnership that helped produce several years of peace.

**

Kara attended the burial a week later. The crowd was sizeable; Kara estimated around 250 people made it to the cemetery, and double that attended the funeral.

She hovered above the funeral-goers, keeping a fifty-yard distance or so to keep the attention off her and on Lena, the brilliant scientist and CEO whom the world, it seemed, deeply missed.

Kara felt a little angry and jealous at the people there. They didn’t know Lena, they could never pretend to know anything about her passion, her fears, her _love_. She even felt angry at Lena herself. _How could you die like this, Lena?_ Kara thought angrily as she watched the hearse stop next to the crowd. _What a stupidly preventable way to die. You’re a scientist. I wouldn’t have let you get in the car. I would’ve been there, I would’ve kept you close –_

But that was the thing: Kara _hadn’t_ been there, and she could never forgive herself. She frequently got requests for support at scenes of car wrecks, and didn’t make it to all of them, so part of her rationally knew Lena’s death wasn’t her fault. Yet a week ago, the love of her life got into the wrong lane at the wrong time and slammed into the guardrail.

Death could happen that quickly, and that was another thing Supergirl knew all too well.

Her chest began to heave with sobs of its own accord, arms hugging tightly across her house crest, cape blowing gently behind her while she floated above Lena’s final resting place. Too quickly, Kara thought, the casket was blessed, the flowers were placed, and the mourners trickled away, Lena likely already off their minds.

Lingering in the air, Kara gazed at the gravesite where three women clad in identical black trench coats still stood, two holding each other and one a distance away from them, hands in pockets and head hung low. They were Lena’s ex-wife and daughters, the family Lena wanted; the family Kara abandoned, so long ago.

Kara longed to visit the grave and tell Lena everything and anything, but seeing the family Kara was never a part of twisted at what little heart she had left. She had no right, she knew; she pushed Lena away, of course Lena would seek companionship and a family without her. Yet Lena still invited Kara to birthdays, holidays, playdates, school and sports events; the girls were eventually entrusted with knowing Kara’s secret identity, and she became a kind-of godparent, a guardian for the children who would never be truly hers.

The three began to walk away, Lena’s ex-wife, Claire, comforting Eleanor, the eldest; and Elaine, the youngest, trailed behind, looking back at her mother’s grave every few steps. Kara had unknowingly drifted closer and descended a few feet when she met Elaine’s celery-green eyes – Lena’s eyes.

Elaine had Lena’s unnerving ability to maintain an expressionless manner, and Kara felt uneasy as those beautiful eyes tore through her, as if Lena herself could see Kara’s pain. Unable to bear the eerie cemetery any longer, Kara gave Elaine a short nod and took flight once more, forcing herself not to look back.

** 

It had been three weeks since Lena died, and Kara had yet to pay her respects.

She would get lost in thought and find herself at the gates, where she could plainly see the exact spot where Lena rested. But guilt and grief took over and Kara would speed home, throwing herself onto the well-worn couch and screaming into a pillow.

But it was after one rough afternoon that Kara finally decided to swallow her fear and visit Lena. A fire had spread through one of the tallest luxury apartment buildings in National City, and while Supergirl prevented it from crumbling down, many trapped inside died from the smoke.

Things like that had happened countless times over the years, and Kara, though never exactly used to it, accepted long ago the fact she couldn’t save everyone. But that day, just mere weeks after Lena, _her_ Lena, succumbed to an accident, Kara felt the pain of loss all over again.  

The least she could do was truly say goodbye to the one person who mattered.

 

The evening had grown chilly by the time Kara willed herself to move past the gates of the cemetery. She decided to walk through the gravesites on the way to Lena’s, despite her suit and cape, wanting to feel a part of the silence that always accompanied final resting places. In a way, it was comforting to be surrounded by those who had passed: they no longer suffered, never again having to weather the misery of humanity’s cruelty.

The whole being eternally gone thing, though – _that,_ Kara ignored. She didn’t feel it was right to be envious of the dead.

Lena’s headstone was nestled on top of a hill, in a plot chosen for its closeness to a cherry tree. _She always considered the aesthetics_ , Kara remembered, and she felt her sadness melt a little.

When she reached the top of the hill, however, her grief was temporarily replaced by surprise when she saw Elaine Luthor sitting in front of the handsome marble, hands clasped neatly in her lap. The girl barely spared the Kryptonian a glance.

It never failed to surprise Kara how Elaine was Lena’s carbon copy, in both looks and demeanor, especially the cold shoulder technique.

“Kara,” Elaine said tersely. If she was at all upset that she was sitting by her mother’s grave, it didn’t show.

“Elaine,” Kara responded, softer in tone. “I…don’t mean to intrude.”

“Yes, you do,” Elaine said, but there was no bite to her words this time. She finally looked up to face Kara. “She would have wanted you here.”

“I’m not so sure,” Kara whispered, eyes drifting to the white marble, eyes suddenly filling with tears. Her bottom lip trembled and she looked away, not wanting to make the visit about her own grief.

Elaine steeled her eyes straight ahead again, seemingly looking past the headstone and into the afterglow of the sunset. “Mom always said you put everyone’s pain before yours,” she murmured, apparently reading Kara’s mind. Placing one hand on Lena’s name engraved into the marble, the girl stood, tracing the “L” before turning to face Kara again. “You’re allowed to say goodbye, you know.”

Kara nodded, looking down to avoid Elaine’s (Lena’s) gaze. Her arms wrapped around her middle involuntarily as a sob made its way up her throat, escaping in quiet gasps. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked into those green eyes again, full of warmth this time.

Without warning, Elaine wrapped both arms around Kara’s neck in a tight hug, surprising the blonde, but she felt herself hug the girl back with just as much strength.  

“She loved you the most, you know.”

The whisper was so quiet, so heartfelt, that Kara pulled away in shock. Elaine offered a watery smile in return, wiping at her eyes.

“Go,” she said quietly, “go talk to Mom. I know she misses you.”

Kara reached for Elaine’s hand, squeezing, and took a few tentative steps forward toward the white marble, her heart weeping in her chest.

“We all miss you, Mama.”

Kara froze, but didn’t look back. She heard Elaine already start to walk away, and knew the girl didn’t expect or need a response. For Kara, it was always too soon, not the time, unfair to the girls’ other mother. But the word stung all the same, and she didn’t need to see it coming out of the mouth of Lena’s lookalike, too.

Tears slipped down her nose and cheeks as she finally knelt in front of the handsome marble headstone, laden with, of course, plumerias. Lena’s name was engraved in all caps, with her birth and death just above “Loving Mother to Eleanor and Elaine.”

Tracing the name, Kara let out a shuddering breath, unprepared to say much of anything other than what she always ended up saying.

“I love you, Lena.”

In the twilight, the headstone, the cemetery, and the sky looked so tranquil, so beautiful, just as Lena had been; and in that moment Kara wished she could die, too, even for just enough time for Lena to tell her she loved her back.

As she was about to stand up and take her leave, Kara brushed away a patch of dirt on the bottom that had been pushed against the stone by people setting flowers. What lay underneath caused Kara to take a sharp intake of breath.

Almost completely hidden by the dirt and flowers, a tiny insignia was engraved at the edge, not meant for just anyone to see.

It was the House of El coat of arms.

Shuddering sobs came from Kara’s throat as she held her face in her palm, holding onto the headstone with her other hand as though unable to let go, unable to really say goodbye to the woman she loved.

“Come back,” she whispered, dreading the silence. “I wasn’t ready, please, come back, come _back_...”

When she felt like she couldn’t cry anymore, Kara wiped at her bloodshot eyes, looking up at the darkening sky as the wind picked up around her. Her cape fluttered around both her kneeled form and the headstone, and Kara knew it was time to go. She kissed the marble, tracing Lena’s name one last time before taking a few steps backward and launching into the clouds.

Ignoring the pain in her chest, just below the symbol of hope, Kara flew above the stratosphere, reaching toward the stars and wishing that if Lena was somewhere, anywhere, the cosmos would hear and bring her back home.

**Author's Note:**

> If anybody wants any comfort after that, consider the following: 
> 
> “Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.”  
> ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix


End file.
